


Prince Tarble

by Dragonempress79



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, heart-ache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonempress79/pseuds/Dragonempress79
Summary: Tarble is about to be sent away as an infiltrator and takes one last look at his family before being sent away, likely forever. Then his father comes to get him. It's time to go.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Prince Tarble

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't many fics about Tarble and even fewer about him on planet Vegeta so I thought I'd take a swing at it.

Tarble was staring at the portrait again, the one of the royal family, most of it anyway. Tarble’s father, the king, looked stern and proud and at his side the queen stood holding his older brother Crown Prince Vegeta. Tarble wasn’t in this picture because he hadn’t been born yet but it still stood outside the hall that led to the royal’s private chambers.

In a way it was fitting that Tarble wasn’t in the portrait. He wasn’t much of a prince. He’d been born into the royal line of a warrior race. His people were the saiyans, the mightiest warriors in the galaxy and his father and brother stood head and shoulders above them all in terms of power level and fighting prowess. Tarble, on the other hand, was only royal by blood and saiyan by heritage; he was neither in terms of spirit or ability. Otherwise he wouldn’t be such an embarrassment to his family.

Footsteps interrupted Tarble’s thoughts. They were coming from down the hall. Tarble listened as they came closer then faded away again. He sighed with relief as whoever it was moved out of earshot.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t allowed to be here. This was the entrance to the royal’s private chambers and he was a prince, if not a very good one. But when people saw him here they usually asked him what he was doing there or wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere. Usually he just answered nothing and no.

Once Nappa had asked what he thought he was doing just sitting around looking at pictures and Tarble had answered, “I was trying to remember my mother.”

“You’re mother,” the older man had scoffed. “She died while you were still in your nursing pod.”

Nappa had been right. Tarble didn’t remember his mother and no amount of trying would change that. The truth was that Tarble didn’t know why he liked to stare at the painting. It kind of made him sad. But not the same kind of sad as when his brother pushed him down or called him weak. This kind of sad made him wish for things to be different. Sometimes he wished he were stronger like his father and big brother. Sometimes he wished his mother were still alive and that maybe she was like him somehow.

Tarble’s eyes found the Queen’s face. Her eyes were intense but not cruel and her lips formed the same smirk he’d seen on his brother whenever he was winning at something. From what he’d been told about his mother she had been a strong and proud saiyan warrior like his father and brother. She’d been a good queen as well until she and the other elites were sent on a mission and none of them had returned. This had all happened shortly after Tarble had been born.

When Mother had been alive she had been strong like Father and Big Brother. It was only Tarble who was weak, only him who didn’t belong so really it was right that he wasn’t in the painting.

That he wasn’t like the rest of his family was the first thing Tarble could remember understanding. He was weak even compared with the lower class children; he was a joke compared to the children of the elites and nothing at all compared to his brother. Battle hardened officers struggled to keep up with Prince Vegeta. Tarble struggled just to keep up with his own training.

“Tarble!” Father’s voice made the young prince jump. “It’s time.”

King Vegeta wore the same stern expression in person as he did in the painting. Tarble got up and followed his father down the hallway. The two walked in silence. There was nothing to talk about. His father had made everything very clear to him two nights ago, when he’d been told that he was to be sent away as an infiltrator.

Only the weakest children were sent away and most that were, were younger than Tarble was. In fact he was almost too old now, at almost three. But this was his chance; Father had made sure he understood that. Prince Tarble would either purge his planet, proving himself as a warrior to his people, or die in exile. Father had made sure he understood that too. He did understand. Tarble understood that this meant he was a failure and a disappointment to his father and people. He remembered crying himself to sleep that night.

But he wouldn’t cry now, not in front of Father, no matter how much he might want to. Crying was beneath a royal and beneath a saiyan. Tarble knew he shouldn’t do it at all but definitely not in front of others and especially not his father.

Before Tarble knew it he and his father had made it to the launch bay. There was only one other person there, one of the engineers. Tarble was grateful for this. A prince should always carry himself with pride but this was not a proud moment and he wasn’t sure if he could handle a crowd of onlookers right now.

“It’s ready,” the man said.

The king nodded in response then turned to his son. “Get in.”

The hatch door opened as if on queue and Tarble moved to obey his father. Just then it struck to him that this might really be the last time he saw his father, his home, his people. He might really die and never see any of them again. That made him sad like he wished things were different again. He didn’t want to go. If only he were stronger. If only he wasn’t so bad at being a saiyan. Tarble wanted to cry now more than ever but he still didn’t. Father was still here.

Tarble wondered if Father or Big Brother would care or even notice if he never came back. They wouldn’t be sending him away if they wanted him around right? So then what would the harm be in...

“Tarble!” the king’s voice boomed, echoing through the bay. “Didn’t you hear me boy?”

Tarble stared blankly then realized that his father had probably just given him orders and he’d been too busy feeling sorry for himself to pay attention.

“Um...” he started but Tarble couldn’t make words come out so he just shook his head.

King Vegeta’s eye twitched in annoyance. “I said I expect you back. Understand?”

The king looked expectantly down at his youngest son but all Tarble could do was stare. Father expected him back?

“Well?!” the king demanded.

“Uh... Yes Father... Sir,” Tarble stuttered out.

The king grunted impatiently then nodded to the engineer.

The hatch was closed and the pod seemed to rumble to life as it prepared for launch. Tarble, however, was too deep in thought to be bothered with any of that. Father expected him back! His father expected him to succeed in his mission and return to Planet Vegeta a fully-fledged warrior, like him and Big Brother! Father really wasn’t doing this just to be rid of him.

‘I expect you back,’ Tarble wasn’t used to his father expecting things from him, but if this really was his chance then he’d do it. Tarble would succeed in his mission. He’d return home a true saiyan warrior and then Father would be proud of him just like he was proud of Big Brother.

These were thoughts that swam through Tarble’s head as the stasis gas filled the pod and he drifted off into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor boy, but don't worry you'll have a home and family eventually.


End file.
